


Love Lessons

by AgentExile



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Edging, First Time, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, Viktor is a really good coach tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 12:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11851641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentExile/pseuds/AgentExile
Summary: ‘How can you expect to skate Eros if you do not understand Eros?’‘Well you’re the coach, so coach me!’A frustrated Viktor finally realises why Yuuri struggles so much with Eros, and delivers an earth-shattering lesson that his oh-so-virginal pupil will never forget.





	Love Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on a whim tonight and it’s shameless, raw and unedited, but I thought I might as well upload it! Right now it’s a one-shot, but I might make it a two-shot... or more… we’ll see!

Yuuri Katsuki sloped home from training, eyes downcast and feet dragging.

   It hadn’t been the best day, but surely it hadn’t been the worst? He was almost a little insulted by the way that his coach had flounced away, apparently lost for words. If it was that bad, he could have just said so. Yuuri wanted to be mad at Viktor, but as he walked insult turned quickly to shame. He was beginning to feel an ever-increasing guilt. Had Viktor really given up so much for _this_? He could only imagine his disappointment.

   He trudged home to the resort, wondering where his coach had gone. The airport, perhaps?

   He wanted more than anything to lie down. His back and knees were aching, and his feet were blistering. Sometimes he wondered if the pain was worth it. Not on days like this. Somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach, he felt the creeping depression that he had buried since Sochi; the insidious fear that he just might not be good enough.

   He walked through to his room, throwing down his kit bag without a second glance and searching for the light.

   ‘Viktor!’ he almost physically jumped back.

   Viktor Nikiforov was staring out of the window, his palms flat against the glass, dark sweater taut against his shoulders. He turned slowly, with an unreadable expression on his face.

   Yuuri knew disappointment, and he knew disinterest, and he knew Viktor’s tendency to resort to the unkind when he did not know what else to say. But this was different. There was an unfamiliar frustration, looking out of place on Viktor’s usually carefree features.

   ‘You’re here,’ Yuuri said, dumbfounded. After a second, he added, ‘already…’

   ‘We need to fix this routine. It’s not working.’ His mouth was set in a firm, determined line. ‘You still aren’t showing me Eros. If you can’t even show me, how can you expect to show the judges?’

   ‘I’m sorry, Viktor.’

   Viktor shook his head. ‘I don’t want you to say sorry, Yuuri. ‘Sorry’ isn’t going to save this routine.’

   ‘I’m - ’ he caught the ‘sorry’ on his lips, staring at his coach. He felt like a chastised schoolboy. He tried to summon up the insult and anger that he had felt when Viktor had stalked out of the rink earlier, and he was at least partly successful. His hands clenched into fists, but his voice came out quiet and shaky. ‘Then give me something else to do! If you’d just given me Agape we’d be done by now! Why do you keep trying to make me do this routine when you know I can’t give Eros?’

   Viktor scoffed. ‘If you can’t show me Eros, what are the chances that you can show me Agape? Or anything else for that matter? You have a disconnect, Yuuri, between your heart and your body. Until we fix that, the subject will make no difference.’

   ‘I do _not_ have a disconnect!’ said Yuuri, his face hot. ‘I know Agape! But I don’t _know_ how to show you Eros.’

   Viktor turned away in frustration. ‘When you dance Agape, you imagine the unconditional love you feel for your family, your friends, the deep love in your soul. When you dance Eros, you imagine the passion and the fire that you feel in the embrace of your lover, the deepest desire in your veins. How can you visualise one and not the other?’

   ‘Because I haven’t _had_ lovers, Viktor! I don’t… I haven’t _felt_ Eros.’

   Viktor turned back, staring at him.

   Yuuri’s face flushed.

   For a minute, the two skaters stood opposite one another, poised for _something_. Yuuri was not sure what.

   ‘You - ’ began Viktor, but Yuuri cut across him.

   ‘Never mind. I’ll practice more.’ Even with his aching back, his painful feet, he turned to leave, to slope all the way back to the rink.

   ‘Stop,’ said Viktor, his voice suddenly authoritative.

   Yuuri froze, almost involuntarily.

   ‘You’ve never…?’ he trailed off.

   Yuuri turned even more furiously scarlet, but there was something like a smile playing on Viktor’s lips.

   ‘I’ve been telling you to skate Eros, but you’ve never even met Eros?’

   Yuuri was not sure whether it was a question or not.

   ‘How can you expect to skate Eros if you do not even know the feeling?’

   At this, Yuuri felt that annoyance return. He wanted to snap, _that’s what I’ve been telling you_! He knew, however, that pointing this out would be childish. Instead, he settled on, ‘I don’t know, Viktor, you’re the coach!’

   ‘Yes I am.’

   ‘So coach me!’

   He hadn’t meant it to sound like _that_. The moment that the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to swallow them back down. Only when they were floating freely in the room did he realise how they sounded. He wanted to take them back, but the air seemed to be caught in his throat, and there was a dangerous look in Viktor’s eyes.

   ‘You want me to teach you?’

   ‘How to skate Eros, yes,’ stammered Yuuri.

   ‘But to teach you to skate Eros, I first need to teach you to feel Eros, no?’

   Yuuri stared at him, his mouth a little open. He knew that he should shake his head, knew that he was not ready for this and that he should not embarrass himself in front of his coach any more, and yet, before he could stop it, his head was nodding.

   Viktor took a step forwards, a glint in his eye. Yuuri almost stepped back, his heart hammering, but Viktor only walked around him, turning the latch on the door.

   The click made Yuuri jump a little.

   Viktor walked to his side then, a little behind him, just close enough that he could feel his presence almost as if they were touching.

   ‘Have you ever been kissed?’ Viktor murmured, so close that his breath stroked over his ear.

   Yuuri shook his head, the side of his cheek brushing against Viktor’s long, silken hair. ‘Viktor, I - ’ he started.

   But he silenced him with a soft whisper, his words hot against Yuuri’s face and his body moving closer. ‘Do you want me to teach you or not?’

   This couldn’t be happening… his coach, his _idol_ , could not be touching him like this. Yuuri had never felt so nervous, and yet so thrilled, his brown eyes like a rabbit in the headlights. The nerves turned more and more to exhilaration, and finally, he conceded. ‘I do.’

   Then, all he could feel was Viktor’s lips, ever so light against the skin of his throat.

   His arms encircled around Yuuri’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest, and he kissed his neck, ever so gently, barely touching the skin. And yet, Yuuri could feel his pulse hammering hard against Viktor’s lips. He wondered whether his teacher could feel it too.

   ‘This,’ began Viktor, the vibration against his vulnerable skin sending a shockwave down Yuuri’s body, ‘this is Eros. The flutter of your heart, the heat of our closeness.’ He kissed again, this time allowing the tip of his tongue to trace over Yuuri’s pulse, before sucking a slight red mark there, his stamp on this innocent body.

   Yuuri made a sound akin to a whimper, and Viktor laughed lightly, his smile forming on his pupil’s skin, before stepping back.

   The smaller man span around, the sudden absence of his touch leaving him cold. He was furious to see that Viktor was grinning, two rows of beautiful white teeth, as perfect as the rest of him.

   ‘Oh yes, this is Eros. The thud of your heart as I leave you waiting - the fear that I might just leave you forever.’

   Yuuri knew that fear as well as anything - perhaps he understood a little of Eros after all.

   ‘The flush in your veins as I return,’ continued Viktor, closing the gap between them again, this time chest to chest, so that the tip of his nose bumped Yuuri’s forehead. They paused, touching without _touching_ , and then Viktor traced his long fingers up his student’s throat, tilting up his jaw to meet his lips.

   The kiss was so light and yet the entire weight of their once confused relationship seemed to hang from their lips, before Viktor took Yuuri’s entire face in his hands, deepening their embrace and opening their mouths with one smooth flick of the tongue. The weight vanished: the fear and the coyness and every insecurity that held down Yuuri’s body. Yuuri felt adult - he felt beautiful and coveted, and in that moment, it came as no surprise that this world champion, this angel of angels, wanted him. In Viktor’s touch, he found his own self-worth.

   All too soon, the kiss was taken from him, but only so that Viktor could speak. ‘That elation is Eros.’

   Was Viktor reading his mind?

   ‘Viktor, please…’ said Yuuri, his voice a thousand miles ahead of his brain.

   Viktor paced around him, surveying his pupil with keen eyes. First he was a wildcat, stalking his prey, but then a jewel thief, eyeing the greatest prize in his collection. Then, as though he could wait no longer, he took Yuuri by surprise once again.

   He crossed the distance in one step, pushing hard against Yuuri’s chest so that he stumbled backwards, landing on his back on the bed. Before he could even right himself, Viktor had webbed his body across him, lithe limbs straddling Yuuri in a second. His hands settled by his head, holding his weight above Yuuri, their faces inches apart.

   He planted a soft, chaste kiss on Yuuri’s lips.

   ‘Have you ever been touched?’ he said, but Yuuri replied only with a moan, as his hand traced down over his chest, pushing frustratedly at the fabric of the shirt in order to allow himself access at his waistband. Viktor pushed up the tee, freeing it from his pants and stroking over the soft skin of his waist, then down the narrow line of dark hair leading to his shorts.

   Then, his words dripping with intrusive desire, Viktor forced Yuuri’s eyes to his own and said slowly, ‘have you ever touched yourself?’

   Yuuri almost choked, breath coming in heavy pants. How could he look his coach in the eye and tell him that he had spent so many evenings in the shower, moaning Viktor’s name, as he imagined Viktor’s hand around his cock rather than his own. He didn’t say anything, holding Viktor’s gaze but unable to speak.

   He wanted to be angry at the smug expression on his coach’s face, but he could not help his hips tilting up against Viktor’s touch instead.

   ‘Mm, I thought so,’ murmured Viktor. ‘You know what you want.’

   He wound his fingers below his waistband, cool hand stroking over Yuuri’s erection, and pushed the sweatpants away, settling to touch ever so gently over the thin material of his boxers.

   Yuuri groaned.

   Viktor laughed, but there was a gleam in his eye now and his own breathing was getting faster. He freed Yuuri’s cock, stroking his fingers along it for the first time, but not yet offering any friction. Yuuri noticed, infuriatingly, the slight smirk when his cock twitched in response. He was aching now, all thoughts of hid tiredness earlier lost in the energy pulsating in his lower abdomen, and the charge of blood to his most sensitive parts.

   ‘ _Viktor_!’

   His coach smiled, but he obliged, spitting down on his hand before marrying together his saliva with the slick at Yuuri’s head. He closed his hand around his erection and pumped him twice firmly from base to head, far too slowly and with an expression that said he knew exactly what he was doing to the man beneath him. Steadily, his pumps became more fluid, more rhythmic.

   Yuuri pushed his head back against the head, moaning. ‘ _Faster_ ,’ he said, without thinking.

   ‘No,’ said Viktor. ‘I’m here to teach you, not to make you cum.’ His accent caressed the words, his smile evident in their sound.

   ‘Fuck you, Viktor,’ groaned Yuuri. His body felt like it was on fire. Touching himself had _nothing_ on this. Every blood vessel was alive, pleasure pooling deep inside him, ready for release.

   Viktor lowered his head until their faces were a hair’s width apart, breath hot over Yuuri’s mouth. His white-gray hair fell forward, framing both of their faces, creating a small, enclosed world in which nothing else existed but for their shared moment, and the feel of Viktor’s hand jerking him slowly. Viktor kissed him again.

   ‘You’re lasting well, given it’s your first time,’ he smirked, releasing his cock and sitting back, still straddling his waist.

   Yuuri moaned loudly, sitting up as best he could.

   ‘Oh yes, I see Eros in your eyes now.’

   Viktor closed his hands around his naked thighs, nails digging in to Yuuri’s skin just even to make him gasp. His cock shuddered. Viktor pushed his hands up his thighs to rest back at his base, one hand stroking over his aching balls, the other returning to its rhythmic pace. _Thank God_.

   But Viktor was sliding away, barely breaking the melody of his touch, as he climbed off the bed and settled on his knees. Yuuri followed, shifting down the bed with a creak of springs, until he was standing, looking down at his coach before him.

   How could he ever have imagined this? It was far beyond his dizziest daydreams, his most outrageous fantasises. Viktor Nikiforov was kneeling before him, eyes wide and gaze sensual, holding his eyes in deep contact as he lowered his head to his cock, taking the length into his mouth.

   The sensation was too much, the warm wetness of his mouth sending shockwaves through his body.

   Viktor ran his tongue slowly from base to head, releasing him with a lewd, erotic sound that made his heart flutter and his body shiver. The second time, Viktor sucked him harder, hollowing his cheeks and focusing his gaze on what he was doing.

   What was he doing? Making his student fall apart.

   Viktor’s service was methodical… experienced… He knew the perfect pressure of his mouth, the circling of his fingers, and the flick of his tongue over Yuuri’s prone slit, everything that he needed to make Yuuri weak in his hands.

Yuuri’s legs were shaking, stars flickering in his eyes as he fought to keep himself present. Just as he thought he could take in no longer, ready for release, Viktor pulled back.

   ‘ _Fuuck_ ,’ he seethed, teeth clenched, frozen on the very edge. ‘ _Viktor_!’ Every particle of his body was ready to collapse, aching with need.

   ‘That,’ said Viktor, smirking, ‘is Eros.’

   _No_ , Viktor could not leave him like this!

   ‘ _Please_.’

   Viktor surveyed him for a moment, cheeks flushed and lips swollen red. Then, ‘okay. But only because you asked so nicely.’

   It took only two bobs of Viktor’s head to shatter Yuuri’s suspended orgasm, his whole body trembling as Viktor swallowed around him, tongue continuing to work him through. He closed his fingers tightly in Viktor’s hair, just for something to hold on to, as his world crashed around him.

   It was over too soon.

   Too soon the warmth of Viktor’s mouth was replaced by cold air, the pressure of his tongue leaving behind nothing but aching hypersensitivity.

Shaking, he reached down to pull up his shorts.

   Viktor was watching him with keen eyes. He had not moved from his kneeling position.

   ‘Meet me at the rink. Half an hour,’ he said shortly, as though nothing had happened.

   ‘Wha - ?’

   ‘I have some… business to take care of,’ said Viktor, hand ghosting over his the swelling in his own pants as he stood.  

   ‘Viktor, I - I can’t - ’ Yuuri was astounded. His world had just exploded and Viktor wanted him _back on the rink_!

   Viktor walked over to the door, looking back over his shoulder. ‘We need to make sure you’ve learned your lesson.’

   Yuuri stared after him, mouth open in an astonished ‘o’. Had he learned his lesson? More importantly, had Viktor Nikiforov, world famous skater and man of his dreams, just sucked him off?

   Somewhere deep inside, a new beast had arisen, and it was telling him that perhaps he ought to enquire after a few _follow up lessons._

The beast was Eros.


End file.
